The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-11-05
DOES SUCCESS CAKE THE HERo2
BY Lucy BARNES HOLLY.
tCholarae, Cali

" Nothing succeeds like success" /" is
an aphorism of thA world, and it may
be added that whatever pleases the
world is success, and brings forth
popular applause assuring its favOrites
of victory. The world gauges the ac-
tions of men not bJ natural but by arti-
ticial laws. Intrinsic merit cannot an
nounce itself but must wait the recog-
milton OF the woriG That, alas often
comes too late; forNhe grass has grown
green over the grave of many hero
before the world knew him. Many an
artist has starvedsia an attic when had
he lived a few more years, the world
would have rolled eold in upon him and
cleaved his low r0pf with acclamations.
Ii success were Sqe crOwning fruition
given by the word to that which is
helpful and upbuilding; if it were dis
eliminating in its judgments and just
in its awards, then might we trust in
popular applause.
Du0 ~ 10 DIS CdpIltlOuS DIS Will Dune
wisp; as unstable us water; a wave of
emotion that sometimes touches the
soul, but oftener the senses. One mo
ment the world garlands vice, the next
virtue. One moment crowns the man
of God; the next sthe scoffer. Swing
who bestows spiritual mama, and In
gersOll, who ruthlessly tears down the
faith of our fathers, are alike applauded.
The noble Modjeska, and the siren
Bernhardt are both in public favor.
Miss MulOch, who conceived that pure
ideal, John Halifax, and Ouida who
perverts genius low ends, are both
successful. But although a bauble may
attract the eyes Of men for time, it is
an infexible law Of the soul that its tri-
umph shall be brief; for though The
mills of the gods grind slowly, they
grind surely" and nothing unworthy
survives. The words of such men as
Victor Hugo, Chapin, Longfellow, and
Whittier-whose thoughts take hold of
humanity, will live on working as leav-
en- forever, while Byron will be forgot
ten. A grand purpose, a noble concep-
tion, outlives the fame itself; it is i'm
perishable-" Like thing of beauty
a joy forever ana its loveliness in
creases. -
= A little mind sees little thing to
do and does it, A mean mind per-
forms good dees not from magnanim-
ity, but so as 70 shine before men;
whilst great mind seeks no vainglory
self being swallowed up in purpose
mind and soul are infused into it; it is
all controlling, limitless and ever pre-
ceding; leads into heaven itself. The
greater the soul the greater the purpose
and the less possible of accomplishment;
and whatever the verdict of the world
may be, only they are heroes who are
actuated and governed by noble pur-
poses. 6 To do, to dare, to die for the
right, " is their watehword and such are
heroes whether they wear the victor's
crown, or whether death finds them at
their posts with their work unfinished.
For success is naught; endeavor all. "
Imagine two horses, both noble beasts,
fire flashing from their eyes, courage
breathing from their dilated Dostrils.
They are TO ascend a mountainous steep.
the brow of which seems to rest in the
clouds, it IS journey of many days.
One, gaily caparisoned-gro gro0med ana
petted, makes easy ascent. The other
heavily laden, amidst harsh words and
blows is goaded up the perilous steep
-withnO grooming; scant food and lit
tie rest, but he struggles upward with
almost human intelligence. He per-
forms the last days journey amidst
pain and exhaustion, and just as the
other horse plants his feet proudly upon
the hilltop, he makes one final effort to
gain the goal-he pants and paws the
earth and frantically strains every
nerve; and then falls back dead in his
own tracks. What disgrace in brave
failure? What merit in an easy vic
tory
Success never made hero; heIoism
is a divine spark implanted in the hui
man breast by God himself, only need
ing quickening of the soul to fan it
into life. Many a gross wretch has as
tonished the world by some feat of
bravery.
An escaped convict threw in his body
as a log to stop a piece of machinery,
thereby saving many lives. They drew
out the poor mangled body and tears
were shed upon his sin-scarred face
now transGgured into holiness by the
deed that he had wrought One fair
maiden knelt by his side and took his
hardened hands between her tender
palms, and with all the tenderness of
an angel said, My good man, do you
know that you are a hero ?" In the
midst Of the throes of his agony he
raised himself into a sitting posture: II,
a hero ? " he cried and he died with a
smile upon his lips, and they who
looked upon his dead face, where the
mystery Of death and the majesty Of
heaven rested, softly murmured, " Yes,